Finally it.

And so we come to wrap up this week's posts on the last ever Borefts Beer Festival. I've reserved this one for the Dutch breweries present, and of course the host which made it all possible, De Molen.

Given that I tried quite a few of their vast selection, it shouldn't be surprising that some weren't great. Haver & Cappu, for example, is an oatmeal milk stout. That might lead one to expect a certain bigness of body, and likewise the 7.5% ABV, but although it's creamy, it's not especially thick. "Cappu" refers to the inclusion of coffee, and I didn't get much of that either. Instead there's a strong tang of lactose and a somewhat harsh vegetal bitterness, and that's your lot. I was after richness and heady vapours but it completely failed to deliver. Maybe this is what people mean when they say De Molen lost its way in its final years.

Similarly, Rook & Roest ("Smoke & Rust") seemed quite rough and unfinished. That's it on the left of the picture, a headless murky brown and as flat as it looks. It's a rauchbier, of course: 6% ABV and full of sweet caramel, like it hadn't been fermented out properly. I'm not sure if it's a lager, but it lacks any crispness, turning dry only through some acrid tannins. And while bad rauchbier tends to overload the savoury smoke and end up tasting kippery, this has barely any smoke at all. It's a different sort of fail, but a fail nonetheless.

That's a 14.4% ABV barley wine next to it, called Moose & Mounty [sic]. As subtly implied by the name, it has been aged in Canadian whisky barrels, from the Bearface blendery. It's another murky brown one, and has a very boozy aroma with lots of sappy oak. The flavour is an uncomplicated mix of sweet toffee and hot whisky, set on an almost treacle-like dense body. It threatens to get cloying, but works quite pleasantly when sipped in small quantities.

The other De Molen barley wine I tried was Jona & Gold, one flavoured with apples, though I couldn't taste any of that. It's whisky-aged too, up at 12.2% ABV, and that's the signature taste, combining raw spirit heat with subtler flavours of port and sherry, presumably from whatever non-specified barrels have been used -- some versions of the bottle label say Balcones, others don't. While it's more on the aggressive side than a mature smoothie, it still manages to deliver everything one could want from this sort of beer, leaving a satisfying warmth on the palate and in the belly in its wake. I'm still none the wiser about what the apples were for.

Black IPA was in tragically short supply all weekend but De Molen had two on the taps, from which I tried Dank & Dutchies, the collaboration with American brewery Dankhouse. They haven't managed to get this one fully black -- rather, it's a dark brown -- but otherwise it's a classic of the genre. The aroma wrongfoots one immediately with bright and fresh citrus vapours, leading on to a medium sharp resin bitterness in the foretaste, unfolding quickly into spiced up and caramelised red cabbage. It could maybe have done with more on the floral end of the spectrum to fully suit my taste, but it was still absolutely beautiful, and insanely drinkable for 7% ABV.

Bizarrely, I only ticked one new De Molen imperial stout, so I'm sure I missed some beauties. This was Maple & Pecan, the binomial nature of De Molen titles precluding the mention of blueberries, which were also part of the recipe. All that, and a sticky 10% ABV, makes it quite the confection, but it works. Chocolate, jam and Turkish delight are all aspects of the flavour, and yet somehow it isn't a mess, though undeniably sweet. The brewery's expert touch with odd ingredients in strong dark beers shows through here, and will be missed.

My last De Molen beer, possibly ever on this blog, is an icebock called Ijsbock & Poot. It's quite a modest one, as these things go, at just 12% ABV, and includes chocolate and almonds. Both are very much in evidence in the flavour, making it taste like a slice of almond-topped chocolate cake. It still manages to be perfectly beer-like, however, with a distinctly stoutish full body and a burnt-fruitcake dry side for balance. Icebocks can be harsh and boozy, but this is a more delicate affair, sumptuous and luxurious, and making excellent use of the special ingredients.

Moving on, Kees brewery paid tribute to their origins as a De Molen client brewer with an icebock of their own, called It All Started With Menno Olivier. This is a more orthodox 17% ABV and is an innocent chestnut colour. The aroma is the grain and chocolate mix of a bourbon biscuit while the flavour is shockingly sweet, opening on a kind of raspberry ice cream sauce syrup and covering gooey caramel and fluffy banana bread before tailing off. It's as weighty as one might expect a concentrated extra-strong beer of this sort to be, and yet it's still drinkable, albeit slowly. It wouldn't be a regular go-to type of thing for me, but as a send-off for De Molen That Was, it seemed appropriate, and I'm happy to drink to that.

I don't normally get on with the very strong Kees beers, and Velvet Hammer was an example of that, despite its excellent name. This is an imperial stout of 15.9% ABV, and tastes even more alcoholic than that, scorching the gullet with its chocolate napalm. There's loads of thick and sticky caramel, and for good measure a nasty plastic or putty tang. It's rough, acrid, and punishing to drink. Hammer yes, but I failed to find any velvet here. No subtlety, no chill, and frankly no surprise either. I do sometimes marvel that a brewery making such aggressive strong beers grew out of De Molen, which tended to make them in a more nuanced and accessible way.

Mommeriete came all the way from the far eastern Netherlands to participate in the festival, and the first beer I had of theirs was chalked up as Bats on the blackboard, though it seems to be largely known by its style: Gramsberger Rauch. It's a Märzen lager, though a big fellow for that, at 7% ABV, and smoked of course. This is one of those styles that any brewery is brave to take on, since the exemplar of Schlenkerla is so hard to recreate. But I think they've done it. While dark amber and absolutely loaded with deliciously savoury bacon and ham flavours, they've held the clean lager crispness as well, and the two dovetail just as neatly and accessibly as they do in the Bamberg classic. It's thin for the strength, true, but I was happy to ignore the numbers and enjoy an extremely well rendered rauchbier.

They also brought an imperial stout, because you would, though they explicitly state that it's not barrel aged. This is Heer van Gramsbergen and is 12% ABV. While fully gimmick-free it is not without complexity, showing a tarry, smoky foretaste, passing through a smooth dark-malt middle and finishing on a old-school vegetal tang. Even at an event like this, there's a place for a traditional-style imperial stout. I hope other the Borefts punters appreciated that the style doesn't need all the bells and whistles of weird ingredients and processes. There's a lot to be said for keeping it straight. Imperial stout as a palate reset is not something I thought I would find, but it was delightful when I did.

Our last Dutch brewer is Uiltje, one I first discovered at Borefts before it and the hosts became part of the Swinkels empire. Märzen Madness is a bit of a contradiction in terms, and I think they're trying to lure punters in by pretending it's more exciting than a German-style lager will ever be. It is off-style, however, being only 5% ABV for one thing, and having a sweetly floral central flavour, of freshly picked lavender and parma violet candy. A base of crunchy biscuit is something of a nod to what Märzen typically is, although the amber colour doesn't really match how the Germans do it. Regardless, it's pretty tasty, and the intense floral character suits it to the small serves of the festival: I would not countenance a Maßkrug of this one.

On my way out of Bodegraven, I went up to the windmill to say goodbye and enjoy a revisit of some De Molen classics that they were serving there. But before leaving the main festival site at the brewery, my last beer was one from Uiltje which seems to have been discontinued and then revived especially for the event. It came with a health warning: did I want a taste of Flaming Ass Owl smoked chilli porter before committing a token to it? No I did not. I've brewed this style of beer to my own taste in the past, and I have never encountered a commercial version that comes close to my preferred intensity. Fill 'er up.

Well, Uiltje managed it. This presumably one-off festival special was weapons-grade hot: a full-face spray of mace, scorching the tongue and making the eyes water. I loved it. After a couple of blistering sips, the flavour proper emerges, based on dark chocolate but with savoury green chilli pepper skin as well. I fully recognise that this beer may be for my palate only, but at the same time I would love to see more breweries creating chilli beers as delightfully irresponsible and delicious. Thank you for daring, Uiltje and, with nose and eyes streaming, peace out, Borefts.

The other beers I drank in the Netherlands before heading home follow tomorrow.